


Jack meets Posig, Jack likes Posig

by nom



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crack, Humor, IKEA, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-20
Updated: 2009-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nom/pseuds/nom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a few too many drinks and makes nice with IKEA furniture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack meets Posig, Jack likes Posig

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/omnijaxual/profile)[**omnijaxual**](http://community.livejournal.com/omnijaxual/) community.  
> **Warnings:** Crack. Fluffy crack. With dubcon?  
> **Spoilers:** In theory, set during "Boomtown" -- just pretend they were there for a few evenings and parked the TARDIS at the Cardiff IKEA instead of downtown one night.

Jack should not have had quite as many of those sparkly rainbow drinks as he had. Really. Not. Those damn things have a kick. After the ninth one, at least.

He should have stuck with beer, like Mickey and the Doctor. Or beer and just one mixed drink, like Rose. It's just -- the rainbow drinks is what that cute feathered couple kept ordering him. And then his friends had to get all annoying and take him away before he could go home with the cute couple!

Damn them. Damn friends, saying the cute couple weren't being nice but sizing up prey. Phegh. And then wanting to come back to Earth to eat.

No fine, you all go get your fish and chips, he'd said. No, don't want any. Don't want to vomit. I'm fine here, very comfy on the floor of the TARDIS, really comfy. Make sure you doan bring anything that smells of food back, 'kay?

That was a little while ago maybe, and Jack decides it's time to get up and go somewhere, find something.

He staggers, okay fine, crawling it is then. Crawls around for a bit, finds the door -- was he that close to his bedroom all along? -- crawls some more but can't actually find his bed.

++

His bedroom is dark like it's supposed to be, but seems to have gotten a lot bigger. Much. Very, very much. Also there is a lot more furniture in it. Lots, lots and lots. Ow. These corners hurt his head. Also chairs? Why are there chairs? He doesn't have a chair in his bedroom he doesn't think.

If he could raise his head above knee-level -- well, what would ordinarily be knee-level but is now shoulder-level -- to get a better look, he would. But he knows his head would fall off, so he doesn't.

Finally he crawls onto some kind of rug. Good, yeah, better on the knees. If the rug were less itchy he'd just curl up on it and take a little nap. Yeah. But it's kind of very itchy against his cheek.

There's gotta be something, okay, just a little bit -- miles? feet? -- further. Lessee what's there. And yes, a bit more crawling brings him to something a lot softer and friendlier.

"Hi," he says. "I'm Jack. You're nice n soft. Doan mind if I climb on, 'kay?" His new friend doesn't say no, so Jack hoists himself up and onto his nice soft round new friend. His friend has some kind of fur on top, and Jack's always had a bit of a thing for fur.

Jack decides to get comfy in his friend's curves and hollows, and then he decides that petting the fur for a while is the thing to do. Maybe also rub his cheek on it to get rid of the itchy from that mean rug, and well, maybe just rub himself on the soft fur-stuff for a little while.

His friend doesn't object to anything he's doing, and seems to move with him a little, in rhythm, so that's okay then.

Really, his friend is very nice. And soft and curvy.

After round one, Jack is half-curled up with his feet dangling somewhere when he remembers that he's supposed to be charming. Or at least polite maybe. Maybe he can manage that. Maybe.

"So," Jack tries, "Whassyername? I doan usually spend the night if I dunno your name, right? I'm Jack, toldyou that, right?"

His new friend doesn't answer. Silent type. Jack pets him some more, and finds something hard-edged and plasticcy. "Hey, cool, you're wearin a name-tag. Cool. Yeah, thanksh, 'snice to know eash other properly."

Wow, reading is hard. Okay, it's kind of dark, but Jack knows -- knows -- he can normally read 87 languages. Maybe it's the damned rainbowy things again. He can do it though, he knows he can. Yes, he can, and he does, saying, "Hi Poshig, nice to meetcha."

Then he decides to rest his eyes for a little while, and rest his head against something that's sitting next to his friend and is cool and solid and sort of comforting. He pets it with one hand while he rubs little circles in his friend's fur with the other.

++

"Jack? Are you ... are you trying to get it on with an IKEA dresser?" he hears Rose say.

Jack is offended. "No!" he says. "No, definilly not! Thash not my friend, thish is!" And he falls off his pouffe as he says, "This is Posig and I'm takin him home. Soon as we find home."

Before he passes out he very vaguely thinks he hears Rose saying, "C'mon then Doctor, we'll leave them some money or something. It's not like they'd ever get the stain out anyway, right then?"

+++

**Author's Note:**

> Jack's friend: the IKEA Posig pouffe (Hurtig/Krusig red removable washable slipcover. Acrylic/polyester top and nylon sides. Inflatable plastic. Diameter: 47 1/4 inches. Height: 16 inches.)
> 
>   
> ____spacer____
> 
> Feedback on the crackity-crack? Appreciated, here or [at LJ](http://nomanomynous.livejournal.com/513.html).


End file.
